


Home Cooking

by flecksofpoppy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, M/M, Meta, Missing Scene, Reibert - Freeform, Titan Meta, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, canon-verse, i'm a terrible human being
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1685777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flecksofpoppy/pseuds/flecksofpoppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cuts, cooking, and burns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Cooking

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the tumblr anon prompt: _Just some ReiBert promt: it's their turn to work in the kitchen (cooking, peeling off potatoes, etc). So, one of them cut or burn a finger and the other tries to do something (bandage it or just kiss). Or it could be some domestic fluff like they're cooking together and Bertl even manages to cook something which they used to eat at their hometown when they were little and this brings a lot of memories - sad or happy, idk._

Bertolt isn’t a showy type of person.

To be fair, of course, Bertolt also isn’t a person at all, at least not by the standards of human society.

Reiner finds it confusing to see Bertolt nervous all the time—he has sad eyes, a downturned mouth, and he doesn’t put his full effort into their training. It makes sense, of course, but Reiner’s never been able to completely separate himself from his surroundings.

During their shifter training, Bertolt liked to show off. He looked least human out of all of them when he shifted, and he had the most strength, even though he lacked speed. All he had to do was stand up as tall as he could and heat up his body; that was the end of it.

But Bertolt now—Bertolt who’s peeling potatoes in the kitchen—is sweating in the steam, hunched over the task at hand. He looks almost haggard, and Reiner moves to sit down next to him.

“Hi,” he says cheerfully, “want a hand with that?”

They’re alone in the kitchen and left to mind the pots of boiling potatoes (the cook always counts the exact number upon returning to prevent theft of the Sasha Braus-sort). 

Bertolt looks over at him with raised eyebrows, and then shrugs.

“I nicked my finger,” he says, holding his hand up apathetically. His index finger is bleeding profusely, and Reiner looks on with concern.

“Is there something we could use to bandage it?” he asks, taking Bertolt’s hand gingerly in his own.

Bertolt just looks at him dispassionately, and then wipes the sweat from his forehead with his uninjured hand.

Without commenting, he pulls his hand back, looks around and then smiles a little; a little steam curls into the air, and his hand heals up immediately.

Reiner cringes; they’re not supposed to show anything that might implicate them.

But seeing Bertolt actually smile is worth it.

Nevertheless, then he looks down at the floor, frowning mildly at the unpeeled potatoes. “Only ten to go,” he says evenly. “This body is...” he shakes his head disapprovingly and sighs softly, picking up another potato.

“It’s still _your_ body,” Reiner replies rationally. 

Bertolt gives him an evaluating, sidelong glance, but doesn’t comment.

Reiner tries to smile and takes the knife and potato out of Bertolt’s grip. His hands are steady, and Bertolt just watches as he peels it himself.

“You’ve always had steady hands,” Bertolt comments suddenly, watching as Reiner throws the peeled potato into the bucket of finished ones.

Reiner moves to retrieve another, beginning to peel it without even looking down, and he meets Bertolt’s eyes.

He’s always thought Bertolt’s eyes were interesting, considering that they just look black as a Titan. When he’s in his human form, though, they’re olive green and calm, and Reiner’s distracted by them now.

His concentration is broken suddenly, though, as he nicks his finger unexpectedly.

“Oops,” he says, putting the knife down and tossing the potato into the bucket before it gets blood on it, “careless.”

“Just harden it up,” Bertolt says logically with a shrug. “It’ll heal.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Bertolt replies, staring at Reiner with a suddenly intense look on his face. “Of course you can.”

“You know,” Reiner remarks, ignoring the suggestion and dabbing at it with the edge of his shirt, “you’ll never learn how to be human if you keep healing yourself that way.”

“I don’t want to learn that,” Bertolt murmurs, turning to look behind them to make sure no one is around. He faces Reiner again and says softly, “I want to go home.”

Reiner just looks at him; for a minute, he’s a little confused, because all he can think of is how they have to peel all the potatoes for dinner, or else the other trainees won’t eat. And it’s their responsibility.

Bertolt studies him intently, and he takes the knife back.

“What’s wrong?” Bertolt asks, his voice light.

“I was just thinking that we’re not going to get this done in time,” Reiner replies, looking at Bertolt and blinking a little in confusion.

Bertolt gives him a long stare, and then replies carefully, “What’s ‘this?’”

“These potatoes,” Reiner says, and then his mind seems to jump start. “And our mission.”

“Hey,” Bertolt says, reaching out to touch Reiner’s shoulder, “remember how I used to make steamed potatoes?”

That captures Reiner’s attention and helps him break free of his disorientation. “Yeah,” he smiles suddenly, “can you do it?”

Bertolt stands up and grabs one of the peeled potatoes, holds it in his palm, and steams it in ten seconds.

“Here,” he says softly, taking a bite and then offering the rest to Reiner, “open your mouth.”

Reiner shivers; it’s been a long time since he had a moment like this with Bertolt.

He opens his mouth with a gasp, and Bertolt slowly feeds him the potato.

Reiner holds out his hand, and immediately, Bertolt climbs into Reiner’s lap. He spreads both legs around Reiner’s hips so that they’re facing each other, and presses a quick kiss to his forehead.

“C’mon,” he whispers into Reiner’s ear, “harden your skin.”

They used to do this when they first mastered their abilities, and also around the first time that Reiner ever kissed Bertolt.

“Bertl,” he groans, putting both hands on Bertolt’s hips. “I can’t...”

“Yes, you can,” Bertolt whispers, rolling his hips. His voice sounds a little desperate suddenly, too, as he whispers, “I need to feel something other than this loose flesh.”

“Okay,” Reiner agrees, shutting his eyes tight. He concentrates—remembers home, steamed potatoes from Bertolt’s fingers, and hardens his legs.

Bertolt moans, and Reiner can sense the heat that immediately wafts up—steam and hot air. It always sounded like exhaling to him, even though it’s just Bertolt pushing scalding steam through himself.

They kiss, and Bertolt is rolling his hips against Reiner’s hard skin, his entire lower body so hot that it’d scald without Reiner’s armored plates.

It’s a strange combination—Bertolt’s Titan abilities combined with the softness of his lips as he kisses Reiner.

Reiner slides his hands down to the small of Bertolt’s back, and then he hisses in pain.

Bertolt immediately goes back into his human form completely and balks. Reiner is still embracing him, but he can feel that his hands are gone.

“Shit,” Bertolt murmurs, his eyes wide and distressed, “just... regenerate right now.

“Yeah,” Reiner agrees, closing his eyes. He can feel the tendons and muscle slowly knitting back together, the feeling coming back into his fingers as his body rebuilds itself.

The reason they were sent here was because of these abilities—they are the most able warriors from home. Not many shifters can use their Titan abilities without completely transforming, but Reiner and Bertolt were always revered for being able to do so.

“Are you all right?” Bertolt murmurs into Reiner’s ear, kissing him there.

“Yeah,” Reiner replies, rubbing his nose tenderly against Bertolt’s cheek. “Don’t worry about me, Bertl. I’m just a little forgetful sometimes.”

He hears a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob, but then Bertolt’s voice is steady. “Just a little longer,” he says, “and we can go home. No more potato peeling, no more bleeding—no more hiding.”

Reiner shivers and nods his head. “Bertl...”

“Yeah?” Bertolt replies, not moving from Reiner’s lap.

“Is your finger all right?”

“I already healed it,” Bertolt replies very quietly. “Remember?”

“Let me kiss it,” Reiner replies, reaching for Bertolt’s hand. “Help it heal faster.”

“All right,” Bertolt whispers, and his voice is shuddery now.

He closes his eyes as Reiner kisses his finger and palm; and Reiner isn’t sure why the cut isn’t still there.


End file.
